I wish Jim a Happy Father's Day. It's funny, he doesn't like the holiday. He says that being a good father should be normal and that every day is Father's Day.
I have asked him how he became a good Father. He said he didn't know what to do, he had no example, he said he knew what not to do from the examples he had.
I have watched him over the years. From the very first day he became a father, the day Nicole was born. He held her, changed her diaper and asked, why he had to go home alone? I may have needed to stay in the hospital, but there was nothing wrong with Nicole, couldn't he take her home with him. He didn't want to be without her. (The breastfeeding put a crimp in his plans)
I remember when Jake was born, he literally jumped into the air with excitement. All of the children hold a place in his heart that words cannot describe. They are all so different and his relationships with them likewise different.
He tells the story often, the kids make fun of him, but it shows how they hold him captive with his love for them, of Niki, then 4 or 5, helping him to build a deck. She handed him the nails one at a time. Not sure how much extra time it took him to build that deck, but he wouldn't have it any other way.
Him calling me from work with pride that another one of his co-workers called him to tell him how Natalie was dancing on the front lawn waving at cars going by as if she were Princess Diana, she was about 7.
Jacob approaching Jim crying, when he was about 8. What's wrong? I broke the toilet. What did you do? I was playing with the flush lever and it broke off. Hmm, well what do you think you should do? Jake said, punish me. Hmm, how about you help me fix what you broke. Jake was sent to the basement to get another flush lever and tools and Jim took him into the bathroom and the two of them fixed the toilet.
After Jim's back surgery, he had a hospital bed so I didn't bang into him sleeping. Nathan was the only one who could carefully crawl up onto the bed, lay still next to him without hurting him and they would watch tv together and take naps together.
Jim has chased away bad boyfriends, picked up hungover daughters from college, carried his sons into the OR when they needed surgery choking bad tears as he turned over his boys to a room full of strangers in masks and gowns so the boys would have a familiar face with them until they were anestethised so they wouldn't be afraid. He has done all the teenage driving lessons, has gone to school meetings in defense of them and on those occasions when they actually did do wrong, stood by them when they received their consequences. He has signed poor work slips and covered for detentions (yes Jim I know about them), he has performed medic duties and nursing care. I have seen him lift sleeping kids who have grown so much it's hard to lift them and carry them upstairs and tuck them into bed. I have watched him "ground" one of the beasty children, only to look at me realizing there is a "big dance" or event and allow them to go and tell them, your grounding will go into affect AFTER the event. (We wouldn't want the punishment to interfere with them having fun now would we?)
He claims to be full, when he sees one of the kids eyeing the last piece of cake or goodie, he has bought tampons, pads and paid for countless prom and wintercarnival dresses. (He did ask once, after buying a gown for winter carnival, why the girls couldn't just use that gown for Prom three months later, he's a good Dad, but he's stilll such a guy!)
He guides our children, loves them, and would do anything for them. He encourages them, doesn't shoot down their ideas, but encourages them to pursue them, he even does that for ME.
Jim talks, theorizes, and disects conversations and situations, the kids when they were little would say, Dad can't you just spank us like other Father's do. hehe.. nope... let's talk about this.
We all have issues, and Jim owns his unlike most of us. One of the kids recently did something wrong, and Jim talked about mistakes he has made growing up and in life and while discussing the "wrong", talked about how EVERYONE makes mistakes and how mistakes can be overcome and no one mistake should define you. He has told everyone of the kids that erasers are on pencils because mistakes are made. It's what you do after them that defines you.
Happy Father's Day Jim, I know there were only a few things you wanted to accomplish in life, you wanted to be a Good Father and a Good Husband. You are a successful man in all aspects.
Thank you for being both.... I unlike you think being a Good Dad should be celebrated!
Jan
Friday, August 13, 2010
Sons
I never thought much about the differences between sons and daughters. I was thrilled when I had two daughters, and equally thrilled when I had two sons. I will say, I remember Jim actually picking my sister Michele up when she came into my room after I had Jake as he squealed it is a boy! I always knew that I would not favor one sex over the other, would not limit toys, chores, or privileges. My sons would have trucks, guns and dolls, tea sets and books and my daughters would have the same. My girls played with their cars, bulldozers, dolls, and makeup and my sons played with their guns, backhoes, dinosaurs and baby dolls. I will say, however, though the boys had much better car and gun noises, but after playing with their baby dolls, they would play catch with them. The girls fed and swaddled their baby dolls like pros but they didn't really know the difference between a car or backhoe engine noise and would simply say POW POW when they were shooting their pretend guns.
As my children have grown and my siblings’ children have grown, I find myself revisiting the difference between sons and daughters. My sister has had two daughters graduate from high school and college, both are successful in what they are aspiring to do. My brother has a daughter who has graduated both high school and college and another getting close. I have had two daughters graduate high school, one college and the other attending college. No sons have ventured forth yet, until now.
The first familial son is graduating in a week or so, which brings me to this re-evaluation of the differences between our daughters and our sons. I noticed my sister commenting on her blog that she was very emotional as the time of graduation draws near for her son Mark. Mark is a strapping young man; blonde, blue eyes, tall, ruggedly built and handsome as all hell. He has been part of the Fire Explorer Program, firefighting, rescue work, and riding with the crew. He is a hunter, bagging deer, turkey and bear. He has played football, baseball and basketball. He is a great son, a cool brother, polite and respectful grandson and nephew and a bosom buddy cousin. He has already applied, passed the aptitude and physical tests and been sworn into the United States Coast Guard. I think you get the picture. Now I could write an equally glowing description of the familial daughters, but I am contemplating what it means to be a son today, so I will stick with that.
After reading my sister’s blog and realizing, she was having a difficult time with the pending high school graduation of Mark, I began to think about things. I know the tears I shed when my daughters graduated and thought I understood her sentimentality. Our “babies” are growing up. Then I thought more. Mark is her last child. I wondered if it is harder because Mark is her youngest child and he is growing up. I will not know until my two youngest, boys, are poised to graduate. The very thought of which caused my throat to close, my eyes to well up and my heart to tighten just a bit. There is more to this, than just a child growing up, there is more to this than it being the last of the children to do so; there is more to this than us feeling our age. I believe this has to do with SONS.
Religions, Cultures, Society and Families since time began have imprinted upon us roles for sons and daughters, men and women, husbands and wives. There are, of course, always exceptions to the rule. There are sisters who are capable of smacking the taste out of their brother’s mouths. There are daughters who can change their own oil, change their own tires and run a chainsaw as well or better than some sons can, but let us stick with the norm.
Our sons were allowed to be children and little boys who could cry when they scraped their knees and could have their feelings hurt over something little and were not told to be a man, boys do not cry. They also learned, often by nothing more than the example of watching their father that they were going to grow up to be MEN. They learned the enormous responsibility that becoming a man entailed.
There are certain truths about the role of Sons in our society. If is it raining out, they are expected to run to the car and drive it to the doorstep so that the Mother, Wife, Daughter or sister they are with will not get as wet as he. If there is a big spider or other creepy crawly bug in the general vicinity of any female he is “responsible” for, he is the warrior that dispatches it. If there is a mouse caught in a trap, he is the one charged with removing it. If there is a scary noise in the middle of the night, he is the one that closes the bedroom door behind him and investigates. He will sleep on the side of the bed closest to the doorway, making it quicker and easier for him to do so. If there is danger of any kind, he will face it. If the building is burning, he will be the last to leave, or the first to run back in. If the ship is sinking, the Sons will be the last to enter a lifeboat. While there are many daughters enlisting in the service of our country, they are not required to register with the Selective Service at the tender young age of eighteen. Our Sons, for the simple fact that they are male, are required to do so. Some people think the Military should not allow women to serve in combat situations for fear that Men by instinct will put their own safety at risk to protect a female soldier regardless of her ability to perform her duties. Sons grow up learning that they are to be the Hero in any number of situations. That physically, financially, and even spiritually they are to be the leaders of the family.
I believe for all of these reasons, my sister is having a difficult time with Mark graduating and enlisting in the United States Coast Guard. It represents him becoming a Man. It is not so much a loss that she is feeling because her baby is growing up, or that he will be a Man for someone else. It is the knowledge that we women have, the security that we enjoy when our Men are there protecting us, that now Mark will be responsible for all of the things that I have mentioned. It is a huge responsibility, and one that I believe all of the Sons in our family will not only step up to, but also excel at accomplishing.
We Mothers become melancholy at the thought of our babies, Sons and Daughters, growing up at the same time we are excited for their adventures and accomplishments. We Mothers also worry about our Sons, as they become Men, knowing what their families, society, wives and they themselves expect of them. We also are grateful for those Mothers (daughters) and Fathers (sons) who raised their sons for us to rely on and love.
As my children have grown and my siblings’ children have grown, I find myself revisiting the difference between sons and daughters. My sister has had two daughters graduate from high school and college, both are successful in what they are aspiring to do. My brother has a daughter who has graduated both high school and college and another getting close. I have had two daughters graduate high school, one college and the other attending college. No sons have ventured forth yet, until now.
The first familial son is graduating in a week or so, which brings me to this re-evaluation of the differences between our daughters and our sons. I noticed my sister commenting on her blog that she was very emotional as the time of graduation draws near for her son Mark. Mark is a strapping young man; blonde, blue eyes, tall, ruggedly built and handsome as all hell. He has been part of the Fire Explorer Program, firefighting, rescue work, and riding with the crew. He is a hunter, bagging deer, turkey and bear. He has played football, baseball and basketball. He is a great son, a cool brother, polite and respectful grandson and nephew and a bosom buddy cousin. He has already applied, passed the aptitude and physical tests and been sworn into the United States Coast Guard. I think you get the picture. Now I could write an equally glowing description of the familial daughters, but I am contemplating what it means to be a son today, so I will stick with that.
After reading my sister’s blog and realizing, she was having a difficult time with the pending high school graduation of Mark, I began to think about things. I know the tears I shed when my daughters graduated and thought I understood her sentimentality. Our “babies” are growing up. Then I thought more. Mark is her last child. I wondered if it is harder because Mark is her youngest child and he is growing up. I will not know until my two youngest, boys, are poised to graduate. The very thought of which caused my throat to close, my eyes to well up and my heart to tighten just a bit. There is more to this, than just a child growing up, there is more to this than it being the last of the children to do so; there is more to this than us feeling our age. I believe this has to do with SONS.
Religions, Cultures, Society and Families since time began have imprinted upon us roles for sons and daughters, men and women, husbands and wives. There are, of course, always exceptions to the rule. There are sisters who are capable of smacking the taste out of their brother’s mouths. There are daughters who can change their own oil, change their own tires and run a chainsaw as well or better than some sons can, but let us stick with the norm.
Our sons were allowed to be children and little boys who could cry when they scraped their knees and could have their feelings hurt over something little and were not told to be a man, boys do not cry. They also learned, often by nothing more than the example of watching their father that they were going to grow up to be MEN. They learned the enormous responsibility that becoming a man entailed.
There are certain truths about the role of Sons in our society. If is it raining out, they are expected to run to the car and drive it to the doorstep so that the Mother, Wife, Daughter or sister they are with will not get as wet as he. If there is a big spider or other creepy crawly bug in the general vicinity of any female he is “responsible” for, he is the warrior that dispatches it. If there is a mouse caught in a trap, he is the one charged with removing it. If there is a scary noise in the middle of the night, he is the one that closes the bedroom door behind him and investigates. He will sleep on the side of the bed closest to the doorway, making it quicker and easier for him to do so. If there is danger of any kind, he will face it. If the building is burning, he will be the last to leave, or the first to run back in. If the ship is sinking, the Sons will be the last to enter a lifeboat. While there are many daughters enlisting in the service of our country, they are not required to register with the Selective Service at the tender young age of eighteen. Our Sons, for the simple fact that they are male, are required to do so. Some people think the Military should not allow women to serve in combat situations for fear that Men by instinct will put their own safety at risk to protect a female soldier regardless of her ability to perform her duties. Sons grow up learning that they are to be the Hero in any number of situations. That physically, financially, and even spiritually they are to be the leaders of the family.
I believe for all of these reasons, my sister is having a difficult time with Mark graduating and enlisting in the United States Coast Guard. It represents him becoming a Man. It is not so much a loss that she is feeling because her baby is growing up, or that he will be a Man for someone else. It is the knowledge that we women have, the security that we enjoy when our Men are there protecting us, that now Mark will be responsible for all of the things that I have mentioned. It is a huge responsibility, and one that I believe all of the Sons in our family will not only step up to, but also excel at accomplishing.
We Mothers become melancholy at the thought of our babies, Sons and Daughters, growing up at the same time we are excited for their adventures and accomplishments. We Mothers also worry about our Sons, as they become Men, knowing what their families, society, wives and they themselves expect of them. We also are grateful for those Mothers (daughters) and Fathers (sons) who raised their sons for us to rely on and love.
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